


The Cold Clause

by PetraAmia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26725066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetraAmia/pseuds/PetraAmia
Summary: A few years after the Battle at Hogwarts, the Magical world is in a slump during the coldest March they have seen in a long time. Muggles think its climate change, but the Ministry knows different. Change is coming, and the underhandedness of the Wizengamot is back in full swing trying to push through laws that will do more harm than good. Can Hermione Granger and Theodore Nott find a solution before their time limit has been reached, or will the Ministry pass this atrocious law? With the Cold Clause in effect, only time will tell.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Kudos: 15





	1. The clock starts

**Author's Note:**

> This was because of a prompt and I had to just write it out or I'd go mad. Please enjoy. 
> 
> Notes: Not Cannon Compliant, slight AU, and I am sorry if I butchered the translations.

The brisk air of late March was different this year than in years past, especially in London. Though the people of England were made of tough stuff, this air had such a bite to it that it made walking outside rather difficult. The usual hustle and bustle seemed to have been zapped right out of the city, though there were still those brave souls that traveled the Underground to and from their humble jobs. Those folks who had lived in London most of their lives spoke of just how odd this year had been. Record snowfalls all across the isles, and of course this blistering cold. Muggles used to complain about the odd tourists, but now it was all about this off putting chill. Of course Muggle scientists blamed it on climate change, which was a real thing to be fair, but it was not the climate causing this chill.

Hidden deep inside the Muggle world was a quite fascinating and interestingly diverse magical world which was trying to thrive. Smattered across the English countryside little villages of Witches and Wizards attempted to go about their normal day, but they too were having issues with their magic. Adults, with a full magical education, were having bouts of random accidental magic. Simple things like warming charms that once would assist a witch or wizard in such circumstances just were simply not working. This chill was impervious to magic, or so it seemed. Of course, that being the case, the Ministry for Magic decided to hold an investigation into the strange happenings, and came to a rather startling conclusion. " _ **Mellitith yr oer**_ ", a long forgotten about clause on an old bit of magic used to help establish the Wizarding world in Britain many, many years ago.

Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt looked over a slim folder on his desk for the millionth time, hoping that the work the Department of Mysteries had done was wrong somehow. Theodore Nott, the head Unspeakable in charge of the investigation was very thorough, and he knew that there was not a mistake. _**"Pan fydd llinellau o waed yn lleihau, mae ein hud yn ceisio trwsio'r hyn a gafodd ei ddwyn i ffwrdd. Mae caredig un ceisio creiddiau caredig, hud ar dân, creiddiau sy'n estyn i'r nos. Ewch i mewn i'r oerfel a'r gwywo hud, nes bod y dwymyn yn gyda shifftiau dieisiau. O'r ffloch cyntaf o eira, i draw twymyn, bythefnos wrth wyth i slacio'r cosi. Pan fydd twymyn yn torri, atebir yr alwad gan y rhai sydd heb eu rhwymo a gyda hadau heb eu plannu.Mae anobaith yn galw mwy o angen, y rhai sy'n dal yr had hud."***_ The old Welsh stared back at him as a quote from the text that was found. Just looking at them filled his heart with dread.

Once a conclusion had been made about what this cold was, the greedy hands of the Wizengamot had tried to hammer through some legislation that would "seek to end the problem" during the time allotted by the clause. A fortnight by eight, one hundred and twelve days, just under four months to come up with some sort of solution. However that time table started when the first snow hit, The Department of Mysteries hoped that it was the snow that began to fall in the middle of March, leaving them with just about three months to come up with something. Luckily a gag order of sorts was initiated on the wizengamot and all engagements were put on hold through the Ministry. As it was, there were so few happening that it could have been the cause, but the public was told it was due to a leak in the records department. The leak was true, a whole section of the Department of Records had been flooded, but all ministry paperwork was charmed to be waterproof, not that the public need know.

Three months was not a great deal of time to counter what the Wizengamot wanted to propose. A Marriage law, as if that would go over the population well, and the fact that there were no rules and regulations... it was a nightmare waiting to happen. Taking into consideration all angles of this problem now fell to him, Mysteries did their research and it was time for him to make some decisions. Not that long ago he fought in a war, one that should never have been. Kingsley saw the pain and suffering that using people as chess pieces in a grander scheme had caused, and he wanted nothing to do with that. People shouldn't suffer for the whims of old men, and it was time that the younger generation was brought on board. The seats upon the Wizengamot sat unfilled due to bloodlines lost in the war and then some sat vacant because the newest generation had not yet been asked to fill them. It was past time for that change to occur, and it was past time Shacklebolt brought in some help.

Inside the folder on his desk was a note pasted to the inside with a simple request from the Unspeakable in Charge: "Its time to call in Granger." It was in fact time to call in the witch, she had been invaluable handling research for various divisions from within her own section of the Ministry whenever she was needed. This was well out of her department, but she had a shrewd mind that could attack a problem analytically that Kingsley was just lacking. Penning a quick interdepartmental memo, he sent it off and waited for the witch to arrive. Gathering his thoughts, his eyes caught on the Order of Merlin on a shelf for his efforts during the war and the subsequent rebuilding process. It did not seem that long ago, but the dust on the thing proved the passage of time. Almost five years had passed since the battle at Hogwarts which slayed a nightmare. Voldemort had died that day in May, but it had cost the world so much.

Muggles seemed to move in their lives like lightning as the Magical world grew ever stagnant, stuck breathing a sigh of relief. Blood had been spilt and lives lost, all for what? A great curse to take away their free will? How did it all make sense? Questions like this plagued the new Minister as he watched people go about their day in the Ministry, not knowing that this cursed clause lurked just around the corner. Lives were better now with Hogwarts being rebuilt and memorial gardens installed, statues memorializing the dead crafted and shown in prominent wizarding locations, and taint of dark magic no longer lurking on the horizon. Trials for the war criminals long over, and peace had settled into the bones and blood of the community only to... what? What should have been a great resurgence of community after such a triumph just... fell flat. There was no renewal after such loss, as one would expect. Was this the ultimate reasoning behind the clause coming into effect?

A knock sounded on the door a prompt quarter of an hour after sending off the note to one Miss Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin in her own right, signaling her arrival. Though not prepared in the slightest, he bid her enter, and so she did. Much was expected of Hermione Granger after the war, and she did as she always had, studied. Returning to complete her NEWT's , she came out of Hogwarts a Graduate with high scores, and promptly made her way into the ministry. "You asked for me Minister?" The words were spoken in her soft cadence as she entered the room and perched atop an empty seat in front of the Ministers desk. Kingsley rose, of course when she entered and he gestured for her to do just that as he flicked the folder closed.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I did." Taking a deep breath he began, "I am to assume that you have taken note into the odd weather we have been having lately?" At her slow nod he continued on, "the Ministry had noticed that with this weather there seemed to be some odd goings on within the magical community, were you aware?" This time she blinked and tilted her head in question. "Outbursts of accidental magic across the country, failing of simple spells, the cold that is able to break through even cast by a very powerful hand?" Touching the folder on his desk he sighed, "these things all are connected. It seems as if our forefathers of the Wizarding World wrote in an old clause into the very foundations of our magics that is slowly coming to fruition. This," he slides the folder over to her, "is the culmination of what the Department of Mysteries could uncover about this particular clause. It holds a copy of the original documentation in runes, the transcript into welsh, and then the transcript into English for ease of reading. The Unspeakable in Charge was the one to urge me to ask after you to look into the matter. Under the impression that you tend to think outside the box."

Hermione Granger took the folder off the desk and flipped it open, noticing the very distinct and neat penmanship of the notes within. The notes detailed the original clause as it was found in the foundation as well as some additional notations of wording and the like throughout other bits of legislature. It seemed as though this "Curse of Cold" was something that had been alluded to for centuries and once had almost taken root in the 17th century, but was somehow subverted. According to the research there was a rash of weddings and a subsequent baby boom of sorts which seemed to counteract this clause. It was that little fact that had caused the Wizengamot to come up with a nasty little law, which was also included in the folder behind the notes. A piece of vellum over top of the law held the neat scripting but in bright red ink, marking parts of the law that the writer found horrendous.

"This is barbaric! How, in the name of Merlin, did they expect to squeeze this past the population?" Glaring up at the Minister she took a deep breath and re-read the first few pages. "Do we know specifically what they did in the 17th century to stop this? It is not expressly stated?"

"Unspeakable Nott has been working long hours on this project and he was unable to find any notation other than the uptick in marriage bonding ceremonies and births. Hence this law that they wanted to pass silently." Hermione made a sharp sound in the back of her throat. "Nott wanted you in on this since the beginning and I believe that he may have been correct. We have already lost time, and I can only delay this so long. I need a solution that does not require the Ministry to mandate marriages."

"This is the file he gave to you for presentation? Where are the rest of his notes? I have worked with Nott before he became an Unspeakable and I know that he is very detailed and meticulous, there should be more than this." The Minister nodded and handed her a sun shaped pendant. "Ah, I have to go to him, I see. Well, I hope we can figure something out. What is the time frame we have Minister, before they force this through?"

"We are hoping we have three months, but the Wizengamot believes that they can have this passed within two with full funding. You have until May 20th, that is when they are going to propose this quietly amongst themselves." With a grim face Hermione nodded and accepted the pendant. "I have every faith in you and Mister Nott, both of you have rather bright minds, and as he says you can think about this from an outside perspective. Muggles are ingenious that way, without magic they have to create ways around things like I have never seen."

"We will do our best, thank you Minister." With that Hermione left heading for her office to pick up her small leather bag and her coat. The Department of Mysteries tended to be cold all the time at that level, and she was not sure when she would be heading back to her little flat. There was so much work to do and so little time to accomplish anything. 


	2. Unspeakable Nott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo remembers the past and speaks to Hermione about the clause.

Just a few years ago, if anyone had told Theodore Nott that he would actually work in the Ministry for Magic, he would have thought them mad. School was a blessing and a curse for him as it helped him escape his tyrant of a father, but led him to realize that much of the vitriol that his father spewed about those "beneath his station" was simply not true. A real eye opening experience to say the least. Naturally having a few friends was helpful, and it was interesting to see how they all acted among the general wizarding population. Unlike his father, he never truly held the archaic notion that Muggle born or even half blood witches and wizards were beneath him. Magic was magic as far as he was concerned. 

Perhaps that was a bit of his mother's fault, she was whimsical like that. Each night before bed she would read to him tales from different books, both Muggle and Magical children's stories. Letting him learn all that he could, as a Ravenclaw she valued knowledge and learning each and every day. That was until he was seven, of course. When she was not around anymore to read him stories or stoke his imaginative passions. "Soft," his father often called him, and for a long time he looked it too. More interested in learning than in quidditch or anything else most wizards enjoy in Hogwarts. "No son of mine will be in Ravenclaw, you will uphold the traditions of my line. Do you hear me whelp?" The words echoed in his head after his father said them and sent him with a house elf to get on the Express for the first time. 

Of course he did uphold the Nott tradition, lest he be blasted off the family tree for insubordination. Many of the "Most Noble Blood Lines" went into Slytherin per tradition: Malfoy, Nott, Greengrass, Parkinson, Goyle, Crabbe, Black. There were those that he considered his friends, in the sense that Slytherins could be. Not known for their outward warmth, most Slytherins appeared aloof and standoffish, but they did huddle together for warmth when needed. They all knew the day would come where they would be married off, more than likely to each other in some family alliance type of way, so there was no pandering needed. Not amongst the snakes. There was a loyalty to one another, but somethings pushed that loyalty hard. Not too keen to follow in his father's footsteps after all he had seen him do Theodore Nott knew better than to blindly fall for ideals pushed down upon them, some of the other snakes were not lucky enough to know that until it was almost too late. 

Despite his classmates flaws, school was something he would never forget. Yes of course there were magic spells to be learnt and history to devour, but during his time at Hogwarts odd things happened every year. Each year was different from the last, though that seventh year he would pay to erase from his memory. Harry Potter was in his year and disorder followed him wherever it was that he went. Not that it was always his fault, Theo found out much later, but the bloke always found himself in a tight spot. The friends that he had both helped and hindered that, the brave yet simple Ron Weasley and the brilliant yet socially stymied Hermione Granger flanked him more often than not. Hermione Granger was an enigma in school, everything his father detested, yet bested every one of his peers in just about everything, save flying of course. The swot had his admiration and must have the patience of a saint being landed with those two. 

Now that Theo was an adult and worked in the Ministry he had worked with "The Golden Trio", as they were often called, more than he would have been comfortable with in school. Potter was a saucy git who had an eye for stating the obvious, where as Weasley was a bit blunt and could miss the point even if he ran face first into it. It was not that Weasley was dull, just oblivious, but he could pull some profound ideas from nothing. One of his first cases as an Unspeakable was working with the Duo on some cursed objects that were found in the possession of a victim from an unrelated crime. Watching them work was something else entirely, they worked surprisingly well together. Granger, on the other hand, he had worked with a handful of times on varying projects throughout his time here in the Ministry. If anything he was a researcher first and foremost, and in the beginning he would research anything for any department to get his foot in the door. Hermione was working with a lot of archaic law and utilized the research department here in Mysteries to aid on her cases for the Beings Division. 

Having had the time to properly meet Hermione Granger in a work setting was something else, or perhaps she was something else. Analytical, determined, tactical, unstoppable... just some words to describe the vibrant witch she was, like a force of nature. Which is precisely why he had asked Kingsley from the beginning to bring her in on this cold nonsense. Finding an old welsh curse clause hidden in documents spanning centuries ago and only being found thanks to an obscure allusion in a 17th century text was a miracle in and of itself, let alone trying to some how subvert it without being underhanded. Right away, after the allusion he had found he knew he needed Granger's mind, it did not think nearly as linearly as everyone else's. Disregarding superfluous information was its bread and butter, and it was able to see straight past nonsense and get to the heart of the matter. And, boy did the Wizarding world need someone who could cut through the shite that the Wizengamot was trying to sell. 

Knowing that he had properly divulged the information to Minister Shacklebolt only a few hours earlier, he had hoped to hear from him in regards to the verbal and written requests he had submitted to have Granger brought onto the team. Team is a loose word for the fly by night operation that he was the sole operator of down here in the Records section of the DOM, but he did someone to bounce ideas off of, and she was the best suited for the job. The only reason he was made Unspeakable in Charge of this little endeavor was that he could not be bought. Any other person could have been slipped galleons and would have stalled until it was too late, but not Theodore Nott. There were millions of Galleons sitting in his vaults, he didn't have need fore more. The Nott was slowly loosing the stigma that generations had pressed upon it, and he was going to see to it that the Nott's stood for integrity. 

There was a soft click of heels on the marble down the hall that first alerted him that he was not alone and he glanced at his watch. Still early yet, not even noon. With a frustrated sigh he ran a hand through his hair and shook himself a bit before beginning to collect his scattered thoughts and research notes. Tidiness was something he prided himself on, but this project had him more frustrated than most. It had to have been the subject matter, or what the smarmy gits in the Wizengamot wanted to do with the clause that got his hackles up and his thoughts so splintered. Meeting with them always made him want to wretch, but this last meeting he almost lost his top. Talking about altering people's lives on a whim because it would make "smart matches" and be "better for images that have been tarnished." Rubbish, people deserved to choose who they wanted to be with, not be forced by a law of all things to marry "who is best for them" whatever that even means. How are musty old men going to be able to determine who is best for whom? 

"I thought I'd find you down here Nott." The voice made him tense as he looked up from his desk to see the vision that was Hermione Granger standing before him, or well in the door way of this shabby room. Merlin, she was wearing this shade of slate grey that said business but caused him to swallow harshly. How dare she look that good in a bloody skirt suit. "I just spoke with Kings, seems the roaches down here are trying to undo the peace. How can I help shake things up?" If there was still liquid in his mouth he might have said something witty, but she always did knock him off guard at first. Usually his first instinct was to be stoic and slightly cold to newcomers, just to get a feel for them. Hermione Granger, however, never made him feel like he needed to be anything more than himself. Refreshing, really, thinking about it. 

"Well, he sure took his time getting you on it. I've been locked down here for weeks researching this cold nonsense. With very little to go on, might I add." A soft smile played about her lips as she held up the Folder he presented to Kingsley this very morning. "Ah, you have read the dozier? Did you think I was clear enough on my wording, or did your fingers itch to get that red pen of yours out and critique my synopsis?" 

"Honestly, yours are much better than Harry's, half the time I need to remove whole lines because he wrote with his snark and not his brain." There was a bit of a laugh with that last as she approached the table setting her bag and cloak on an empty chair. "Surely you haven't been locked away for weeks down here? Though you do look a bit peaky." 

"Peaky she says, listen here witch I have been.... you know what, you are right I am feeling a bit peckish. Its about time for a break." At first he tried to muster up a little bravado but dissolved into laughter. "Tell you what, how about I gather my notes and we can grab a bite and discuss them. I know you want to get your hands on my notes Granger." This was easy, this bit of flirty banter. Each and every time he worked with her it happened, easy as pie. 

"I could eat. Oh! Fancy a culinary adventure? I heard there is one of those pop up places that cropped up a few streets into Muggle London. They are some American place, if you'd like to try. Rivers told me about it yesterday." Tossing on her cloak she looked over at him for an answer. 

"Oh really now American? How quaint. You're on, beside I think the ladies in the Cafeteria want to fatten me up, like the witch from that Muggle fairy tale. What was it... Hansel and Gretel?" The soft laugh of Hermione granger filled the room as he neatened his notes and tucked them in his brown leather journal and slipped on his coat. "Shall I escort you madam?" With a bit of a mock bow he slipped the journal inside his coat and held open the door for her to leave. 

"Well if you insist, then you are paying also." With a playful roll to her eyes she exited the door and the pair walked to the exits together. "Oh I forgot to tell you about my meeting with Pimpfires! I could almost see the smoke coming out of Jacobic's ears when he was called up on his mishandling of the Centaur situation. Your work was outstanding." 


	3. The Record Stacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Theo head to Records where they think they have part of the equation that they need to solve the issue... but there is still much more to go.

That same easy banter happened all throughout lunch, and Hermione had to say it felt good to laugh a little. Kingsley had sure dumped a mess into her lap, but at least she had someone competent to work through it with. If anyone was going to be a person to help her come up with a solution it was Theodore Nott. Conversations betwixt the two had always been so easy, even when they worked on their first project together. Nott was waiting in her office with a small box of scones from a little muggle bakery and two takeaway containers of coffee. "Morning, I wasn't sure what you'd like so I bought a few different kinds. A bit of sweets in the morning help me think. Thank you for the list yesterday I was able to get you this," a slim jacket folder was under his arm, "its not much but some ideas and what I personally know of the subject off the top of my head. First time I am working with Werewolf legislation, so its not much."

The night before she had gotten into an argument with her mother, who was son a kick of wanting grandbabies. With little to no sleep the sheer kindness and brilliance of this person, who did not know her very well, to bring coffee and sweets to a morning meeting was almost enough to make her kiss him. The sheer effort and deliberation that he put into his work was enough to want to snog the man senseless, not that he knew of course. At first these easy little flirtations back and forth went over her head, it took Ronald to point it out to her (Ronald, of all people!) that they had been flirting. Nott had worked on some research things for the Aurors as well, and Harry had invited him out to drinks on their routine Thursday meet ups. If he looked good during work hours with research between them, he looked down right delectable with the top two buttons of his shirt undone and his sleeves pulled up in a pub.

If Hermione thought hard enough she would remember seeing him as a boy in Hogwarts, tall and rather thin. Haunted, she supposed, he always had this strange air around him that she vaguely associated with that word. Like he had seen too much. As a man he had grown into himself quite well, if she did say so herself. Still deliciously tall with rich wavy brown hair, but now his muscles were toned and he had filled out his frame sharply. Theodore Nott was honestly a catch, though he never dated. According to office gossip (not that she really cared for the stuff...) he was a bit of a loner and turned down many amorous advances from eligible witches. This was backed up by the fact that she had seen him turn down advances on three separate occasions by beautiful witches. Cordelia Morris from Transportation had been lent over so much she threatened to spill out of her top and into Nott's face, but he didn't even give her a glance as he shut her down. This of course led her to pout to Cormac McClaggen in Cooperation, who gladly sorted her out with a "Well to turn you down he'd have to be bent." Hermione did not think Theodore was bent, not that she would have liked him any less, but their fun bit of flirting was so refreshing. Surely he wouldn't flirt with her if he had an inclination to the male half of the species?

It would be a shame wouldn't it, if the closest thing to a dating prospect she had turned out to bat for the other team. That would devistate her, of course her mother would have kittens if she told her. After the termination of her and Ronald's relationship she focused on her work and barely had time for the finer points of dating. Not that there was a plethora of men banging down her door either. Perhaps it was speculations after the split with Ronald (all unfounded), but she went back to being rather invisible in the public eye and could focus on the things she needed to focus on. Work took up most of her time because she tended to put in long hours. Jean Granger just could not understand that her work was so important to her, that her dating life just wasn't a part of her priorities. It wasn't as if she wanted to be a spinster and hole herself away with an army of cats and spend her golden years writing books like Bathilda Bagshot. Did she want a family? Absolutely, but she was not in any sort of rush, no matter if her mother seemed to be ready.

After their meal had finished Nott pulled out his journal and let Hermione skim the pages of detailed notes that he kept as he sipped at his drink. "Well, I watered it all down for Kingsley to just bare bones. I knew that throwing too much at him at once would be detrimental, but this is the details. I scoured document after document to try and figure out what exactly circumvented the thing before but there just wasn't anything written down." After a long draw of his drink he ruffled his hair, "no new laws, nothing in the books that came out just before or just after... I have nothing to go on. I have quite helplessly hit a wall in my research."

"Alright, well there was an uptick in both magical bonding ceremonies and births correct?" Flipping through the pages of his notes, she came across the section that he had notated where he gathered that thread of information. "I could see the births being what circumvented this, but... something strikes me as odd about this bonding. Do you have the documentation of wording for this time?"

"Not on me right now, but I am sure we could pull some records... Why? What are you thinking?" The glass was halfway to his lips when he narrowed his eyes and he tilted his head.

After a moment to breathe she continued, "perhaps its the wording. The way we speak has changed since the 17th century, we no longer use old words or words have changed in meaning over time. Its a normal occurrence in the spoken word. Its why a lot of history has been lost, because it has been spoken and not written down, or even translated incorrectly." Theo licked his lip as he set down his glass and leaned forward into the table a bit more then he had been in rapt attention. Hermione wanted to squirm. "Who is to say that the Ministry or we as a magical people have subtly changed the wording of our bonding ceremonies and it has caused part of this problem. It cannot be as simple as syntax, but it could lead us in the right direction."

"Your mind is a beautiful place Hermione Granger, I would love to get lost there some time." The word were spoken so softly that she wasn't sure she heard it at first as he grabbed his drink and finished it before standing and paying the tab. Leaving her a bit stunned to say the least, she blinked and downed her own before donning her coat and grabbing up the journal and her bag. "Are you ready to head back in? It gets dreadfully boring down in the stacks of records."

"Well, I am in good company we should be fine." Mustering up a smile for him, she lead the way back to the Ministry and down into the cave known as Records. Eagerly they both got to work trying to find the proper documentation. It took hours to comb through the paperwork but finally they had found something. "Theo! Look at this..." Out from the stacks somewhere comes a slight thud as if something had fallen or had been bumped into before he emerges and leans over her shoulder. The subtle smell of Theodore Nott washed over her with a hint of mint as he read.

"This looks like a handfasting... wait. This is much different than the ones we use today. A bond could simply be going before the Magister in the Records office with two witnesses... this includes a circle and a ceremony and three priestess?" Taking a few more off of the stack under that particular record, they were all the same. Each of them had a type of handfasting ceremony with three priestesses or officiants and handfuls of their closest friends and family. Each one notes the spell that was used to bind them, and the ribbons that tied their hands. "Granger, this... this spell is powerful, old and a touch more on the blood magic side than the Ministry likes, but powerful. Look at this they each made their vows with a ceremonial blade and dropped a bit of blood each on it to bless the vow."

"So this spell and the touch of blood magic is the difference between 17th century weddings and now?" Sitting down in one of the empty chairs she shook her head, "that can't be it Theo. Surely something as simple as changing the spell wouldn't change the course of the clause."

"This spell isn't simple Hermione. This spell can only be used between perfect magical matches." At her blink he continued, "each of us has a magical core that aligns with the core in our wands." Another nod with a quizzical look, "cores are just as compatible as people, they can clash. For the most part we mesh just enough to be happy and never want for anything else, but for those that can match with someone the experience is like nothing else, or so I was told. Its like when we worked on that bit of werewolf legislation to protect their mates?" Taking up residence in the chair opposite her, he set down the paperwork in his hand. "Witches and Wizards can have mates too, core mates so to speak. Someone who matches with them perfectly. I always thought it was a bit of fluff for fairy tales, but this particular spell, if you look at the verbiage, denotes that this is a bond between mates."

"The clause was circumvented because those that were bonding were perfect matches for each other? I can understand that this would make a person happier in their marriage, but I don't understand why that would effect the clause... unless there is something else about these matches that changed what came next?" Worrying her bottom lip she stood to pace. "What if this effected the birthrate somehow as well? Perhaps that is the key, those that bond in this fashion were more inclined to have magically gifted children? What were the squib rates in the 17th century?" Eyeing the paperwork in her hands she knew that the answer wasn't in this batch, and more than likely not in this section. "I suppose the birth records would be in a different section?"

"Ah, yes birth and death records should be a few aisles over. I will notate this and get these back where they go if you would like to check that out. I just want to properly document this." With a wave of his wand, his journal enlarged and his quill began copying things over in his very neat script. Straightening the stack of papers in her hand she watched him for a moment and then headed off in the direction of the Birth and Death records. If her theory proved correct, that there were less squibs, this could be what they needed. Though just a theory is not going to stop what that horrendous law, so they needed to go above and beyond just that bit of research.

Reaching the section of records she needed, she found the years she was looking for burred deep within the cobweb covered stacks and began to leaf through the file. Squibs were never truly documented properly, especially in influential families, however looking at the rates that were reported was a good start. First she found the cumulative document written at the end of the year so that she could compare numbers and was honestly shocked at what had been recorded. There was an over all number for the whole century notated at the very bottom, but it was the by decade and then by year that were the most amazing. Near the end the birth rates had almost tripled, and there were zero squibs listed. With a wave of her wand she just copied the necessary files and dragged her copies back to the desk where Theo was working. "You are not going to believe this!"

Looking up from his notes he heard Hermione coming forward. She had been back there for a while, which was curious, and he hadn't heard much from her. The record stacks were some of the most quiet places in the ministry so usually you could hear a pin drop. As she skirted into view and rushed over with stack of paperwork, she pulled the top one off and handed it to him. Raising his brow he read the paper quickly but stuttered and had to read it again. "No squibs reported at all? These averages are three times the normal rates now... compared to earlier in the very same century almost a 200% increase! How- wh... this must be it."

"Now the problem is how to achieve these numbers without that law?" Setting the paperwork in her hands on the table she paced a few times back and forth. "What if... Theo, what if we used the law to our advantage?" There was a choking sound from him as she turned, "not like that... but think about it. If the way to get the numbers up properly is to have this ceremony, then we make sure that is part of the law. We could add provisions that only perfect matches could bond."

"That leaves us with the trying to match people together based upon their perfect match. The only thing I know that even remotely matches anything is the.... sorting hat? But that is just personality and mindset vs house attributes... its not a perfect match. I could have easily been in Ravenclaw but I asked for Slytherin to uphold the Nott name..." Sitting back in his chair he ran a hand through his hair and Hermione couldn't help but stare as it resembled morning bed head.

With a lick of her lips she sat across from him, "true as that may be its still something. Does the DoM have anything that is along that vein that we could perhaps tweak in the time we have?" Without thinking she laid her hand on his and felt a soft little shudder run up his arm. "Perhaps... we should take a break for the night? Its nearly Seven, and we have only eaten lunch. I can brainstorm some ideas tonight and perhaps look through some of my charms books to see if there isn't something there... perhaps we need to consult a potions master?"

Theo cleared his throat, but his voice came out a bit scratchy in a slightly primal way. "I can always reach out to Draco. He is working on his Master's and he would have access to more books through schooling that might be of aid." Once more he tries to clear his throat, "I have worked on that Protean charm that you showed me and have spelled a few journals with it so I can access my notes anywhere. I have a set that I was working on some other things with but they only communicate with each other, I thought perhaps we could use them to store some notes on this and compile together?" With a lick of his lower lip he reaches into his bag and pulls out two journals that look very close to his brown leather ones, though these are done in a dark (almost black) green leather. Sliding one over to her he laughs, "these were my first try and I still use these usually when I want to tweak something or try something new but the Protean charm is still solid."

Taking one of the journals, Hermione adds a quick charm of her own to create a folder of sorts on the inside cover and slides her notes from the day inside. "That is a great idea, thank you Theo. We should head out though, before we get locked in here." With a sharp flick of his wand the paperwork he had been working on goes back to where it came and they make their way out of the darkened section of Mysteries and home for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> "Mellitith yr oer" - The Curse of Cold
> 
> *Welsh translation : "When lines of blood dwindle, our magic seeks to fix, that which was stolen away. Kind seeks kind, magic alight, cores reaching into the night. Enter the cold and the magic dithers, until fever hits with wanton shivers. From first flake of snow, to fever pitch, a fortnight by eight to slake the itch. For when fever breaks the call is answered by those unbound and with seeds unplanted. Desperation calls in a greater need, for those who hold the magic seed."


End file.
